


Silhouettes and Scars

by BreTheWriter



Series: Jim and Bones: The Academy Years [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreTheWriter/pseuds/BreTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I screwed up."</p><p>That's never a good phrase to wake up to in the middle of the night. Especially when your best friend is James T. Kirk...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silhouettes and Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on [YeahWrite,](http://yeahwrite.tumblr.com) a writing prompts and resources blog. The challenge was to start a story with the phrase "I screwed up." Of course Jim and Bones would occur to me...

"I screwed up." 

That's never a good phrase to wake up to in the middle of the night, especially not coming from your best friend. _Especially_ when your best friend is James Tiberius Kirk, the only genius-level repeat offender in America. And _especially_ especially when the words are said in the thick, slurred speech that indicates the speaker is drunk, sorely beaten, or both. 

I rolled over on my bed, grumbling under my breath. "Jesus, Jim, what time is it?" I muttered, squinting to see Jim's shadowy outline in my doorway. 

The bed creaked slightly as he sat on the edge. "Three A.M." 

"Three A.M.," I repeated flatly. As a doctor, I was used to getting dragged out of bed at all hours for medical emergencies, and that had bred in me a fierce love of sleep. I hated getting up for nothing, and usually I'd be angry with anyone who woke me up. But Jim knew that, and to his credit, he usually tried really hard not to wake me up unless it was a genuine emergency. 

I groaned and sat up, reaching for the light. "All right, let me see what you've done to yourself this time." 

But Jim's hand caught mine, holding it back. "No," he said in a low voice. "Don't...don't turn it on." 

I turned, confused. "I can't treat what you've hurt if I can't see it." 

"You can't fix this, Bones," Jim whispered. "I screwed up." 

My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. And it _was_ dark; there were no windows in the dorm rooms, probably to get us used to starships. I could see Jim, sitting hunched over, one hand dangling loosely on his lap, the other still lightly restraining my wrist. He had no cuts, no bruises, save ones from a day or two before that I'd already treated as best as I could. So he hadn't been in a bar fight, which was what usually brought him into my room this time of night. But there was a thickness to his speech that indicated he _had,_ at least, been in a _bar_. Little odd that he hadn't been fighting. He didn't need to be drunk to fight. 

"What happened, Jim?" I said finally. 

"I screwed up," Jim repeated. 

"Okay, fine, but how?" 

Jim let go of my hand and put it on his lap, still staring at them. In the dark it was impossible to make out his expression. In fact, if he wasn't so pale, I wouldn't have been able to tell that he wasn't more beat up than he had been when I'd last seen him earlier that night. "I screwed up," he said again. 

I was seriously starting to get worried now. Jim rarely did this--repeated one phrase over and over, no matter what I asked him or what I said. Usually it happened on what I'd privately come to call "Tarsus nights." I knew he'd been on Tarsus IV, the infamous colony where, faced with a famine, the leader had summoned the half of the population he felt to be "inferior" and ruthlessly informed them that they would be executed so that the remaining half of the population would survive. Jim had been in the surviving half. His brother, and several of his friends, had not. He had a few issues stemming from that, not the least of which was survivor's guilt. 

That he was now repeating, over and over again, that he had screwed up meant that whatever he'd done--or had done to him--had damaged him badly enough that he was caught in a loop. He was genuinely traumatized, and heading for a full-blown panic attack. 

I did the only thing I could do in situations like that. I put my arms around Jim. "Talk to me, Jimmy boy," I said gently. "Tell me what happened." 

To my surprise, Jim tried to pull away from me. "Bones...I screwed up," he said pitifully. 

"Jim." I didn't let go of him. "Tell me what happened. I promise I won't be..." I stopped. I couldn't promise I wouldn't be angry. Hell, I probably _would_ be. We both had tempers, and he knew how to annoy me, and often did it deliberately. But I could control it. "I promise I won't yell or anything. Just tell me what happened. I can't help you if I don't know." 

Jim didn't move for a minute, but at least that meant he stopped trying to pull away. Finally, he spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Topher Unger." 

I tried to place the name. "Didn't he graduate last year?" I vaguely remembered a big, burly, muscle-bound man with more brawn than brains, who had been on the security track. I thought he might have been one of Jim's students in the fighting class he assistant-taught. 

"Yeah," Jim muttered. "Got his assignment. The _Bradbury_. Ships out tomorrow at noon. Bought a round for everyone in the bar." 

"Doesn't sound so bad so far," I said lightly. "You feel guilty about scorin' free booze?" 

Jim shook his head. He looked up at me, and in the extremely soft glow of the night-light in my corner, I saw the glint of tears in his eyes, which startled me. "Bones, I slept with him." 

My jaw dropped slightly. That was the last thing I'd _ever_ expected to hear Jim Kirk say. It wasn't that it bothered me; I was bisexual myself, not that I advertised. Most people knew I'd been divorced, but I'd never even told Jim that I liked guys, too. But Jim...Jim would chase anything in a skirt. About half the female cadets at the Academy had slept with him, and about half the ones who were left claimed they had. He was a horn dog, a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of guy. I'd never known him to even _look_ in a guy's direction, let alone make a move on one. 

At last, I found my voice. "Guess you don't normally do that, huh? Sleep with guys?" 

"I used to" was Jim's reply, which stunned me even more. "Haven't since I started the Academy." 

Without meaning to, I let go of him and turned to face him fully. He seemed to curl into himself further, as if he were trying to make himself disappear. Quietly, I asked, "Any reason for that?" 

Jim made a shifting movement that might have been a shrug. "It...it's _wrong._ It's not the same anymore. Sleeping around with girls feels less like I'm--" He stopped, jerking like he'd been stung. 

"Less like you're what?" I was genuinely confused by that. 

Jim shook his head quickly, as if he were terrified. "Never mind. Sorry I said anything." 

"Jim." I reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You ashamed of bein' bi?" 

"I'm not _bi_ , Bones, I'm pansexual," Jim corrected me swiftly. "'Least I'm pretty sure that's what I am, if I had to hang a label on it. And no. I never have been ashamed of it and I never will be. But..." He raised his head slowly and looked at me. "I haven't _wanted_ to sleep with another guy since I started the Academy. I thought I could do it. But...but tonight, I was drunk and I was lonely and I was...hell, I don't know. There was music and Topher was dancing with everyone, and he started dancing with me...I guess he was drunk, too, 'cause he grabbed my ass, and..." He buried his face in his hands again. "I screwed up, Bones," he said again. 

I debated putting my arm around him again, then decided against it. The words _I thought I could do it_ buzzed around my head, but I didn't know what they meant. "Did he rape you?" 

"No," Jim replied immediately. 

"Did you rape him?" 

"No!" Jim sounded genuinely shocked. "Bones, you know me. I'd _never_ force _anyone_ to do anything they didn't want to do." 

"Then what's the problem?" I asked gently. "You both wanted it. Nobody forced anything. Nobody made any promises. Why do you think you screwed up?" 

Jim lifted his head from his hands slightly and turned his tearstained face towards me. "Because he wasn't you," he whispered hoarsely. 

I wasn't sure I'd heard Jim correctly. "Sorry, Jim, I don't think I got that." 

"I love you, Bones." The words tumbled out of Jim's mouth like he'd been wanting to say them for a long time, and a floodgate had broken. "I think I've kinda been in love with you since we met on that damned shuttle. I wanted to protect you from everything you were afraid of--space and flying and death--and it kind of surprised me, 'cause I've never felt like that about anyone. But I told myself not to be stupid. That I'd just met you and I didn't believe in all that love-at-first-sight crap. And then by Christmas, I pretty much knew that I wasn't being stupid, and that whether I believed in it or not, I'd fallen in love with you. But...but I know you don't feel the same way about me. I know you were married and all that. So I promised myself I wouldn't say anything. But I still loved you and I didn't want to be...I don't know. I didn't wanna be unfaithful to you, even though we're not together and we never will be. I've made it three years without sleeping with another guy--without _wanting_ to sleep with another guy--and then tonight, the one night I don't manage to convince you to go out and have a drink with me, is the night everything breaks and I let the first sweet talker who's good with his hands coax me into bed. And even though I still pictured you in his place and almost screamed out your name...it _wasn't_ you. I screwed up." 

He fell silent then. I just stared at him, my mouth hanging open so wide you could've flown a starship through it. I'd never known _any_ of that, and I'd thought I knew Jim better than anyone else did. But I'd never known that he liked anything other than girls. I'd sure as hell never known he thought of me as anything other than a friend, a drinking buddy. But not only did he like guys...he liked _me._

He _loved_ me. 

"Dammit, Jim," I said at last. "I wish you'd told me all this sooner." 

"Why?" Jim muttered, not looking at me. "So you could change the codes on your door?" 

"No. So I could do this." Before I lost my nerve, I slid closer to him, caught his chin with one hand, turned his face towards mine, and kissed him. 

I may not have had Jim's record, but I certainly hadn't been celibate during my time at Starfleet Academy. I didn't kiss and tell--I was raised a Southern gentleman--so maybe Jim hadn't known it, but I'd slept with a girl or two, and a couple of guys to boot. But I hadn't kissed anyone like this in five or six years, since my marriage had hit the skids. I put every ounce of passion I had into that kiss. 

At last, I let him up for air, but I didn't let go of his chin. I held it there, staring into his eyes, which were wide with shock. "Wh-what was that?" he stammered. 

"Can't you guess, Jim?" I said softly. "I love you, too." 

"No," Jim said in a low tone of voice. "Bones, don't tease me like that..." 

"It's true," I insisted, not letting go of him. "I don't know when I started falling for you, but I know when I first knew--last summer, when you went on that survival course and were a week late getting back. I was almost in a panic, not knowing if you were alive or hurt. About halfway through that week, I woke up in the middle of the night thinkin' I'd heard you come in, and when I realized you hadn't...well, I cried, Jim. I buried my face in my pillow and I cried, 'cause I was afraid you were dead and I'd lost the most important person in the world to me. The first person I'd been able to love since Jocelyn broke my heart." 

"I never meant to scare you," Jim whispered. "I...I never thought you'd feel the same way about me." 

"Yeah, well...you aren't the only one who tried fightin' it," I admitted. "I slept with a couple of people over the last year, hopin' to get you out of my mind, but I couldn't. And I never sleep so well as I do when you're here, even though I thought you just thought of me as a friend." 

Jim scooted a little closer to me. I let go of his chin, but he didn't drop his head. "Bones, I don't normally hide my feelings. I normally wear my heart on my sleeve. But...you know, you're the first person in twenty-four years I've wanted to spend more than one or two nights with. The only one I've felt more than lust for. The only person I've cared about since my brother died." He reached up and touched my cheek. "I love you," he said again. 

"I love you, too," I replied. 

This time he was the one to initiate, moving closer and kissing me deeply. I kissed him back, one hand slipping around his waist, the other tangling in his short blond hair. When he slid his hand into my waistband, however, I broke off the kiss, putting a hand on his sternum. "Whoa, Jim. Hold off." 

He stopped, to his credit, but I could see his eyes searching my face in confusion in the darkness. "What? I thought--" 

"I do love you," I assured him. "It's because I love you that I'm stopping you. You're drunk. You told me yourself, you were drinkin' pretty heavily. And I ain't one to take advantage of someone who's in no fit state to consent." I kissed him again, lightly. "If you still want this tomorrow, I'll give it to you. We'll take our time and do it right. But not tonight. Not while you're six sheets to the wind. I don't want you to regret anything in the morning." 

Jim studied me a moment longer, then slowly smiled. "I love you, Bones," he said for the third time. 

"I love you, too, Jim," I said, smiling gently (and, I confess, with relief). I turned back the covers of my bed. "C'mon, let's get some sleep. You've got that Kobayashi Maru thing tomorrow, you need to get your rest first." 

"Okay." Jim crawled under the covers obediently. Normally when he came into my room to crash, we slept back to back, or both lying on our sides. Tonight, however, he laid his head against my chest, snuggling against me as though he were a missing piece of my puzzle. 

I wrapped my arms around him. I didn't know if he'd remember this conversation in the morning, or if he'd deny it, or if he was only saying these things because he was drunk and didn't mean them. For all I knew, all we'd have was that night, that moment. But I had meant what I said. I loved the corn-fed idiot. 

I tangled one hand in his hair again and planted a light kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, darlin'," I whispered.

"Goodnight, Bones," Jim murmured, a slow, sleepy grin curving on his face as he closed his eyes. "My Bones." 


End file.
